The Gospel According to Jill Poem

Updated: Jun 18


I'm no Lin-Manuel Miranda

Or Jack Black, the Kung Fu Panda

I'm no scholar

Not a baller

And I sure don’t wear a collar


But check it out:

His birth was foretold

by ancient prophets of old

More precious than gold

this babe was born in a cold


manger, hidden from the rage of a paranoid king

who was threatened by an infant being


King Herod was a pansy, afraid of a child

He got himself all antsy, his edicts running wild

He sent his soldiers chasing after babes in the night

The Roman children of Judea couldn't put up a fight


Under the radar and hidden in hay

Darkness surrounding, excitement abounding

He was star-searched and virgin-birthed


Like Mary Kate and Ashley,

He made an early first impression

Then He vanished from the scene

to return in resurrection


Oops. Spoiler alert.


He stayed under the radar

Carving wood just like his father

The perfect son, jealous of none

Like a mother goose who leads her little babes to water

Jesus drew his faithful flock to feast on holy fodder

Whether tax collector, fisherman, publican, or zealot

Men and women left their lives, to see what would develop

A roller coaster ride across the dry and desert land

This Son of Man shared wonders His posse couldn't understand

“Come, walk on water”; don't plant your talents in the sand

Trust me. Join me. Together hand-in-hand.


But even those who gave the most

were destined to fall short

Invited to a private garden

"Stay with me" His one request

This motley crew could not pull through

and slumber got their best


Through thick and thin they’d promised

to have each other's backs

But once the thread began to break

The tapestry unraveled

Like an unwanted Valentine, sealed with a kiss

Brutus Judas blew the whistle

and turned his Master in

To think the final meal they’d shared

had barely found its end


Then pious Peter, poised, as promised

Pitifully protested

Yet three times the question probed and prodded

Three times denied his Master


Catapulted like a pinball from Caiphus to Pontius Pilate

No fault was found

His character sound

But bloodhounds want their pound

To keep the drooling dogs at bay

Pilate gave them what they sought

A blameless lamb whose life began

and remained without a spot


Hung on a tree for all to see

Like a harlot on display

The crowd went wild

Hearts filled with desire

to cast their fears away

This poser, this prophet, this puppet, this pain

To see this man suffer relieved their disdain

This king of the Jews and self-proclaimed God

was not the expected, was surely a fraud


He hung quietly fulfilling what the prophets foretold

From a babe in a manger to a king so bold


A crown of thorns pressed deep in His temple

A spear piercing His side

Jesus, beloved, a shining example

Looked up, breathed His last, and died


But the story continues

The best yet to come

The devoted saved the body

Prepared it, still numb

Swaddled once more and again laid to rest

With kisses, through tears, His flesh secured by the best


The people still grieving, the ones who believed

Their Messiah deleted, their hearts wholly grieved


Three days passed as reality set in

The faithful mourned together, tried to heal from within


But when the tomb reopened

No body lay inside

The Messiah, He had risen

To spend forever by your side

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